He wrote to a daughter he would never meet, in the full knowledge that he would never meet her, and he told her that he loved her, and the love was not diminished one particle by the fact that he would never see her face.

I sat at the table with my hand on the daughter he was writing to, reading a dead man tell his living child that he loved her, and I understood that some kinds of love do not require presence, or time, or even a single shared moment.

They only require a heart large enough to love someone it will never meet.

Mark’s was.

Chapter 15 — More Time

And then, to Cecelia, Mark explained why he had chosen organ donation.